Pretty Little Head
by bruises.and.bitemarks.fade
Summary: Lovino Vargas is an average young man with a less than average boss, Antonio Fernandez. But a standard locker check changes his life for the worst, and at the heart of it all is one dazzling Spanish drug-lord who shows him a darker side to the world he knows.
1. Dearly Beloved

**Well hello there! Thanks a bunch for reading. This is mostly me being bored and dabbling with writing, so please mind the typos, rushed writing and OOCness. Please review, follow, and favorite. Enjoy!**

 **!Warning!**

 **Pretty Little Head contains graphic sexual content, drug use, non-consensual sex, alcohol use, intense scenes of violence and murder, mentions of self harm, and strong language. If any of these things oppose you or trigger you than do not read!**

* * *

People have never been my strong suit.

Most of the time having any form of interaction with one of those peasants makes me want to slit my wrists but NO, I have to be polite. It's utter bullshit in my opinion, but whatever. Despite my not having friends and little to no family who can put up with me I get through life fine.

That was up until that dumb bastard showed up.

Now, to be honest I'm pretty average. About 5'3, maybe 190 pounds. I have short brown hair and tan skin. I live with my grandfather and twin brother and I work at the 7/11 down the street. But that job…

I can't coherently find the proper words to explain to you how much I hate that job. It makes me want to shave my eyebrows off. Somebody once tried to buy me. Not fucking kidding. Some weird French sewage-drinker came over to me, winked, and asked me "How much?"

I told him to ask my mother and he left.

But my family needs the job so until I turn 18 I'm stuck with it. Until seven months ago when we got a new manager. And everything just went downhill from there.

His name is Antonio. No, I don't know his last name and I really don't WANT to know his last name. He's a Spanish tomato licking whore-bag and he's making my life a living hell. He's less than average, unlike me.

He has a dark mess of brown curls on his head, and his piercing green eyes dance with light when I look at him. He's almost an entire foot taller than me, which makes him oddly menacing. A thick accent drips from his voice when he talks, and when he talks to me he doesn't call me by my name. It's always chica, or más querido, or some other bullshit Spanish pet name.

He likes to think he's charming or funny but I see right through all that. He just wants to mess with us. I barely get work done with him around, but that's the card I've been dealt and I have to hold on just a little longer.

"Mi Corazòn!" Antonio yelled with a grin when I walked in. I scoffed and kept walking to the employee lounge. "Awe, you're very linda today Lovino~!" My co-workers chuckled as I slammed into the locker room with Antonio in hot pursuit, and I shot them an angry glance to shut them up.

"Are you okay Lovi? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" He asked me with his head tilted and lips pursed in curiosity.

"I was fine until you started talking, zucchero." I spat the last word in Italian, just to confuse him. Antonio groaned and walked out, slammed the door, and cursed in various and unknown languages. I cackled to myself, feeling accomplished for making him mad. My locker was right in front of me so I walked forward and unlocked it. Inside sat only three things. My uniform. A picture of Nonno and brother Feliciano. And a loaded gun, just in case.

The gun wasn't allowed in here. In fact, me even owning a gun is illegal to the nines. But there's been too many robberies at town 7/11's recently for me to exactly feel safe.

I put on my uniform and quickly shut my locker when I heard Antonio calling me. "Oh, mi corazòn Italiano, your shift started dos minutes ago! We need you at register one!" My eyes rolled without me realizing and in retaliation I shouted "Die, tomato bastard!" But he simply laughed heartily.

My shift was uneventful. A few kids were stoned and bought our entire stock of brownies, which was a pain in the ass to bag, but other than that it was the usual eight o'clock business at 7/11.

Antonio sang loudly in his office as I went to the break room for a smoke before my next shift in half an hour. The room was empty, so I lit up my Marlboro cigarette and inhaled. I looked around the room and noticed the announcement board had a new paper on it. My face went white and the world froze when I read today's news.

**ATTENTION!**

ROUTINE YEARLY LOCKER CHECKS AT NINE A.M.

MAKE SURE YOU HIDE YOUR DRUGS

-ANTONIO, YOUR BOSS

**MEMO OVER**

I had a loaded, functioning Glock in my locker. And Antonio was about to find it. My entire body shuddered and I threw my smoke on the ground, muttering curses as I put it out with my boot.

"OKAY KIDS, IT'S LOCKER TIME."

I felt cold. Antonio saw me as he swung the door open to the break room, and his face lit up. "Ciao, Mr. Vargas! I'll check your locker first, seeing as you're better than all of us and would have the sense not to mess things up!" He walked to my locker and began to twist the lock.

"Antonio, listen to me." I said firmly, my voice cracking.

He turned around, his face concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Don't look in my locker. I'm begging you."

His face turned from joy to alarm in seconds. "What's in there, Lovino." He said, his tone deadly serious. This sent shivers down my spine.

"I can't tell you. Please, please, oh my god, please don't look, I'm sorry…" I sobbed and tears started falling. All Antonio did was turn back around and open my locker.

He looked in there. At my gun and my picture.

"Oh, Lovino… Don't you worry your pretty little head. I won't say anything. But promise me."

"Promise you what?" I was choked with tears.

"That you'll talk with me in my office after work today." He said this roughly, slammed my locker shut, and strutted out of the room.

I screamed quietly.

The day seemed to go on forever. He was going to rape me. Or fire me. Of have me arrested. And most likely all three.

But finally the last customer left at 9:00 p.m. and my final shift ended. I felt myself begin hyperventilating, and the few employee still here gave me worried glances. The co-manager Ludwig even asked me if I was okay and I managed a weak nod.

The sky slowly turned from pink into a dark violet and the last of the workers left.

I stood up from my spot in the break room and began the slow walk of terror to Antonio's office. He had my gun. Maybe he was going to kill me. That would be fine. I don't know anybody who would care or miss me, so it was cool. After what felt like an eternity, I finally reached his office.

I tentatively knocked the door, shaking in my boots as I did it. "Come in, chica." Antonio called, and as I twisted the doorknob he grabbed my gun off his desk and pointed it at me.

"FUCK, THAT'S A LOADED GLOCK! BE CAREFUL!" I cried, throwing my hands in the air in surrender. He laughed and swung his feet over his desk. He brought the gun to his face and opened his mouth slightly. "Sit down, Mr. Vargas."

I did as I was told. It was easier that way.

"You can obviously see the problem with this, Lovino." He started, opening his mouth wider and bringing the Glock closer to it. I inhaled sharply as he brought the gun to his lips and kissed the barrel. He pressed his tongue to the tip of the gun and licked from there to the handle. The lighting in the room was dim, and the windows were all drawn shut. Antonios dress shirt sleeves rustled as he moved the gun around in his mouth, and I felt my face start to flush.

"I could have you arrested, Lovino."

"But you won't."

"How are you so sure?" He pulls the gun out of his mouth, a bit of saliva hanging between his lips and the firearm.

I let out a shaky breath.

"You love me, Antonio."

He simply laughed at this, his green eyes beaming at me. "Ah, you can see right through me amado. Even though I love you, I still have the best interests of my business in mind."

I snorted when he said that the 7/11 was HIS business. "But sir, you're merely a raggazo. You know nothing about me except that I think you're a fucking bastard and I work at some shitty Virginia gas station. You can't love me."

"If I don't love you than I can just turn you in for illegal possession of a firearm."

"Anto-"

"No! We're past you begging. I'm calling the police, I'm an idiot for thinking you'd listen to me."

"Oh my god please don't call the police." My throat felt dry as I pleased with him once more, just to have him roll up his sleeves and rest his elbows on the table. He leaned down, groaned and pressed his face into his hands.

He cursed in Spanish, looked at, me and said the last thing I expected him to say to me.

"I need you to smuggle heroin, cocaine, sleeping pills and marijuana. If you do that, then I won't take action about the gun."

My head nodded.

"First. Lovi, you need to listen to me."

"What is it."

"I won't let anybody touch you. No matter what. Only I will touch you. And promise me?"

"What is it?"

"That no matter what, you'll always follow my instructions. Please."

"I promise."

"Good." He stood slowly, very solemnly leaned over the desk, took my face in his hands and softly kissed my forehead.

He walked out of the room and said just one word:

"Beautiful."

I wanted to pretend that nothing had happened. But I showed up to work the next morning to see the building closed, saying there was a shipping accident that affected the amount of plastic bags and they couldn't open the store today.

I knew this was bullshit because Antonio was sitting on the trashcan, wearing all black from head to toe. I rolled my eyes at him and took a step forward, willing myself not to punch him. Antonio's face lit up like a bulb when he saw me and he gracefully jumped from his seat on the grimy old wastebin.

"Hola, mi corazòn Italiano! Que pasa?" He rattled, and I simply shrugged.

"Well, I have to talk to you today, and I also agreed to something super illegal. So I'm having a great day, you fucking whore."

He gave me a look. It wasn't of anger or contempt. Something else. He brushed this off with a laugh and he started to walk away from the gas station, his olive cheeks a little darker with a slight blush.

"Where are we going?" I asked him loudly, irritated with his not giving me any details."To my dealers apartment. We're getting a new supply, and later this week I'm going to show you how to smuggle them." He said, moving to walk beside me. I wasn't used to this side of him, serious and dark.

My breath hitched when he pressed his hand onto my chest, but I noticed he was just stopping me from walking into oncoming traffic. I mutter my thanks and we keep walking, my mind churning with unasked questions.

"Antonio, do you take the drugs?" I questioned intently, that seeming to be the most important question.

"No, I just sell them. My last mule-"

"Don't call me that. If you love me you won't call me a mule."

"Yes, sorry Lovi. As I was saying, my last smuggler quit when he found out one of our suppliers was arrested. Got cold feet you could say. So when I found you hiding some glockamole in your locker I figured I could get to know you better, and get a new smuggler."

This wasn't Antonio. This was some drug kingpin who just happens to run a gas station on the side. I wanted to get away but it was too late for me to go back. Should I report him to the police? No. I can't do that if I'm a minor in possession of an illegal firearm and it would effect Feli and Grampa if I went to prison.

"Lovino? You're being awful quiet. Did I do something wrong?" Antonio asked worriedly as we approached a really dumpy apartment building a few streets over from the store.

"You worry too much ya damn tomato eater. Oi, where does this junkie live anyways?" I spat, seeing his face go back to its usual smirk. "Just in this building here. His name is Alfred and he lives with his husband, who's a total jerk by the way. If they're fucking when we get there just yell something about a fire and they'll come outside."

I stared at him in awe and shook my head. "Whatever, let's just get the goods so I can go the hell home you cuck!" I snapped, Antonio smiling at me as we walked into the building. It smelled like spoiled milk and everything we touched was so sticky I had to suppress my urge to scream.

Eventually we reached a room with the number "221" on it. Antonio didn't even knock before he twisted the brass knob and ran into the room, shouting "ALFIE! It's Toni and his m-" I shot him a look and he corrected himself. "And his smuggler!"

A tall, pale man with fluffy blonde walked in from a nearby doorway and his blue eyes lit up. "Oh, hey man! Who's this guy? He looks like this one kid Ludwig slept with last week. Actually, he looks exactly like that kid. Dude, did your smuggler sleep with Ludwig!?" He kept babbling as I remembered when Feliciano had gone out on a date last week.

My twin slept with one of my co-workers.

Antonio had since engaged the man in conversation, and I tried vaguely to follow along as I planned a murder. "Oi, blonde fatty. What's your name?!" I shot to the stranger, and he looked hurt as I insulted him.

"Well, I'm the bravest and bestest man alive, Alfred Freedom Kirkland-Jones! And what's your name muleykins?" Alfred shot at me, and he smirked as he did so. Antonio cringed a bit as I slowly moved to sit between them on a dirty couch nearby.

My breath slowed and I made direct eye contact with Alfred. "Lovino Vargas. If you call me a mule again I will put a fishhook down your urethra and castrate your husband, so you better watch your fucking back."

He didn't talk to me after that.

Ultimately Antonio got a few bags of heroin, a location for drop off, and what time we should be there. Apparently Alfred's husband was his smuggler and right now he was at some war house giving meth to some college students, so we didn't get to meet him, but Antonio said I would meet him next time.

As we waved goodbye Antonio took off his hoodie and I vocally laughed at the shirt he was wearing underneath. It was a Nine Inch Nails sweater and I couldn't help but smile. "Nice shirt, did you get it at Hot Topic?" I asked jokingly, and he looked deeply offended.

"Well at least I have friends!" He cried back, fake tears welling up in his eyes. I snorted and walked away, dreading what will happen at the drop off later.

At least Antonio will be there, and armed.

 **Authors note- There is a playlist for this! Look up "Pretty Little Head" by solaris_has_swag on Spotifiy, and follow for new music daily!**


	2. Three Shots

Okay, thanks for the follows and review thanks fam! The dance scene was written by my friend Aime, if you liked it than contact me and I can link you to more of her work. So thanks, Aime! Review, follow, and favorite please, and enjoy!

(side note- this updates bi-weekly on Tuesdays and Saturdays)

 **Warning!**

 **Pretty Little Head contains graphic sexual content, drug use, non-consensual sex, alcohol use, intense scenes of violence and murder, mentions of self harm, and strong language. If any of these things oppose you or trigger you than do not read!**

* * *

I spent the last few hours before 8:30 p.m. with Antonio. He basically talked my ear off about his friends who would be helping me actually get the stuff inside me, which was the least of my concerns. Eventually he noticed my discomfort and he decided to ask me some questions.

"Are you okay?"

"Do you need anything ?"

"Want some food, cutie?"

At that last one I punched him in the arm and told him to shut up, and he sighed and sat down.

"Lovino, it's time to go." Antonio finally said. I sighed and stood, walking out of the empty shop to his little red Ford Fiesta.

I choked when I saw the car, laughter rising in my throat. "You. You fucking spaniard. This is so offensive, why would you ever…" Antonio tilted his head in confusion but continued to open the door to his car and get in.

We drove in silence, looking at the darkness rising in the sky. I felt tears run down my face and my entire body was wracked with terror, but Antonio did nothing. He just kept driving and staring on. We drove over the HRT, crossing over from Virginia Beach to Norfolk in a little over a half hour.

We drove through the busy streets, looking at the other headlights in the cold, crisp night. It was beautiful tonight, perfect even, and I couldn't appreciate it. A sob came from my chest and I buried my face in my hands. Antonio reached his hand over and started gently rubbing circles on my back with his big, warm hand and I was a bit more comfortable.

Eventually we found our drop off location, the Chrysler Museum. Antonio's friend Francis worked there and he had turned off the security cameras. I was completely alone. I got out of the car as Antonio loaded a gun that he seemed to have pulled out of nowhere, and I wasn't crying anymore.

He was staying behind. I knew what I was supposed to do. Stop shaking, I told myself. It didn't work. I walked toward the side of the building and saw two men standing there. That was Gilbert and Matthew, I reminded myself. They were showing me where to put the heroin in my mouth.

"Nice night, huh? I wonder if it'll snow this year." I prompted, and the smaller one nodded. "Hallo, little Italian. This your first time? Don't worry, we won't hurt ya." The taller one said happily, his striking red eyes glinting at me as he purred to me. There was bile in my mouth at his flirtatious words, but he just cackled in a repulsively German manner.

The small one reached into his hoodie pocket, pulled out some heroin in saran wrap and passed it to the tall one, who smiled sweetly at his timid partner. "Open wide, grumpy." The albino man said, and I spat at him before opening my mouth. He pressed his pointer finger into my tongue and I groaned in pain. He shoved my tongue up and jabbed the heroin to where my tongue could cover it, and he gently shut my jaw.

"Auf wedersehen, little boy." The large man said, grabbing the tiny ones wrist and walking away.

I stood there for twelve minutes before a terrifying looking man started towards me. He was fat and round and I could see blood coming from his nose. "Hey, how's your life?" He said quietly, his voice rough and perverted. I shuddered and opened my mouth, pulling the heroin out and handing it too him.

Instead of grabbing the drugs he grabbed my wrist and roughly shoved me towards the ground, laughing quietly as he did. I shouted but he covered my mouth with one hand and pressed his knee into my chest. I began to scream and he ripped my clothes off, tears blatantly falling down my face. He took his dick out of his jeans and began jerking himself off. He flipped me onto my stomach and shoved his dick up my ass, and I screeched.

Bang

Bang

Bang

I felt his penis slide out of my entrance and his blood began to trickle onto my exposed back and thighs. He was dead. Bits of his brain and skull were in my hair. His blood was on me, staining my skin red.

Antonio stood a few feet away, a gun in hand. "Go wash up, there's a fountain over there. I'll get rid of the body." He said flatly. He picked up the body and slung it over his shoulder, walking toward the nearby gross lake. He stopped for a second before dumping it in there, the body making a dull splash as it went into the water. I washed the blood, bone, brain and pre-cum off my body and hair before pulling my red shirt back on along with my boxers and jeans.

Antonio walked towards my solemnly, pulling a cross from a chain on his neck tucked in his shirt. He put the cross between his hands and knelt down near me. He signed the cross quickly and pressed his praying hands to his forehead.

"Padre nuestro,

que estás en el cielo.

Santificado sea tu nombre.

Venga tu reino.

Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo.

Danos hoy nuestro pan de cada día.

Perdona nuestras ofensas,

como también nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden.

No nos dejes caer en tentación y líbranos del mal.

Amén."

I recognized that as the "Our Father", even if it was in Spanish. I touched his hair gently, and he began to quietly choke on his tears.

"Let's go get an alibi. Don't worry. Don't worry, nobody will find us. Don't worry. God won't find me. Don't worry."

Antonio stopped his car in front of the run-down building and unlocked the car doors. The smell of alcohol and roofie burps were already coming in and giving me a headache.

"I don't think we should go in," I told him. "This place literally smells like roofies."

"Lovi," Antonio laughed with his perfect laugh. "I've been here plenty of times we're safe. I'm practically the bartend's son."

"An-." I started

"No," he cut me off. He reached over forcing my seatbelt off and opened my door. "You deserve this. Now go!"

Before I could protest Antonio literally pushed me out of the car and onto the hard dirt road. Tiny little pebbles stuck to my arms and neck and I laid there in pain.

Two pleated dress pants legs walked up to me and I could hear the sound of him tapping his foot in my ear.

"If you're going to pass out you might as well get drunk first."

I felt like punching him.

The club felt...unnatural. I've been to clubs before but they were nothing like this.

"Sam's club doesn't count," Antonio told me.

"Ha ha ha," I rebuttled. "I'm serious though. I feel like this is the kind of messed up, shady club you see in cult movies. For all we know those guys over there could be in the middle of planning to recreate all the death scenes in Pulp Fiction."

"You need to stop watching so many goddamn movies," he sneered. He lifted himself up to the red plastic seat and patted on the one next to me. I hesitated but I got on as well. "Hey Carl!"

As if on cue a big hairy guy who looked shockingly similar to Robert De Niro popped up from behind the bar drying a shot glass with a beat up old white rag. Gross.

"Hey yo Toni," Carl said in a heavy Italian accent. "I haven't seen you since September man!"

They did that dude/bro grab one hand, pull each other close, do a single back pat and then get as far away from each other as possible because no homo hug thing that most guys like to do.

"Who's your friend?" Carl asked. I meekly waved and pulled out my phone to punch in the numbers 9-1. I'll wait until shit gets real to punch in the other 1.

"This is Lovino," Antonio said patting my back with force. I quickly jumped up and looked at Carl. "We work together."

"Oh...I see," Carl laughed. "I had another thing in mind."

"Doesn't mean it can't happen!"

"What can't happen," I asked. "What do you do?"

"Lovi chill," Carl told me. "You ever been to a club before?"

"Yes," I answered. "But not a club like this."

"Well don't you worry your pretty little head," Carl said patting his weirdly hairy hand on mine. "I'll make you The Lisa."

"What's The Lisa?"

"It's this really delicious drink with gin and tonic, peach schnapps and a bit of whip cream on the top." Antonio told me

"That sounds gross."

"Oh yeah it sounds disgusting," he laughed. "But it's surprisingly good."

"Whatever happened to that Lisa girl?" I asked

"Died from alcohol poisoning," Carl told me. "From her own drink ironically enough. 1993 was a bad year."

We all went silent for a few moments. The music (which was a dubstep remix of Missy Elliot's Work It) pounded in our ears as people danced and grinded up against each other.

"What'll you have Ton?" Carl asked while he started preparing The Lisa

"Vodka for me," Antonio answered. "Like always."

"Coming right up!" Carl said. He disappeared behind the counter and started making our drinks.

I couldn't help but look over at all the sad and shallow people who came here tonight just to feel worthy. It was obvious which people were newly 21, which people had been coming here for years, and which people only came here because for the first time in 13 years their kids got off their back and they actually got along with their spouse.

And then there's me. Tiny, short, and I look far too responsible to be sitting with a druglord in this fucking pisshole.

Antonio is different. He's built like a linebacker, he's dashing, suave, probably grew into his body at age 10 because there is always that one asshole who doesn't go through that awkward stage and if they do it's minimal. His wavy black hair never falls into his eyes and I swear his arm is more muscle than arm.

As I was questioning why nobody had noticed the girls who were obviously 12 a big, curvy glass slammed down in front of me. It frothed at the top and was a weird yet kind of cool pink color.

"The Lisa," Carl declared. "Toni we're out of vodka do you want one of these?"

"Sure why not," Antonio exclaimed. "Unlike other people I want to live life to it's fullest."

I felt like punching him again.

After six Lisa's, two beers, and one tequila shot I was practically on the floor. Not in that way, no, I was on the floor holding my stomach trying not to puke. You would think someone who literally got raped and had a man die inside of me could handle this but you (and I) obviously guessed wrong.

Antonio was reacting differently to his two Lisa's and one tequila shot. He constantly looked like he was about to cry and as if he was going to pass out at the same time.

"I HATE MY MOTHER," he yelled. Oh yeah he yells too. "LIKE SORRY FOR NOT HAVING A VAGINA...MOM!"

My head was pounding. The loud dance music wasn't helping either. Who knew Ariana Grande could be extra nauseating? People were stomping and clapping and those two 12 year old girls were most definitely having sex with two grown men at some booth. I really do hope that they don't remember that part of the night because then they will regret it forever.

"IT IS SO HOT IN HERE," Toni yelled. He ripped off his shoes and threw them to the ground. He then peeled off his black socks and threw them on the ground too. "I ALWAYS HATED THOSE SHOES. THEY WERE A GIFT FROM MY MOM."

I, still being on the floor, could only see Antonio's feet. It was weird really, they looked huge and were all bony. Do all guys have feet like that? Are my feet supposed to look like that?

"What size shoe are you?" I asked somehow managing to stand up.

"14," He answered. Immediately my eyes darted down to his crotch. You know… I always heard that guys with big feet have huge dicks. It really did make me wonder. "Hey! Just because I have big feet doesn't mean I have a big dick!"

"So you admit you have a small dick?" I teased. Antonio rolled his eyes.

"I have a huge one."

"Really?"

"Yeah, whenever people see it...they faint."

"Oh yeah?" I laughed. "Prove it."

Without even asking questions Antonio began unbuckling his belt. His stubs for fingers smoothly slid the button out and reached down for his zipper. I could feel my stomach turning as he reached down into his pants. Butterflies? WAIT NO NOT BUTTERFLIES.

Before the "good stuff" could come out I threw up all over Antonio's favorite red shirt. He screeched and quickly took off his shirt revealing his six pack. Huh, he never struck me as the type to have a six pack. I always imagined him as the skinny muscular type.

I couldn't even get an apology out before I needed to run to the bathroom to throw up some more. I dashed into the men's restroom and found the first thing available. A urinal.

I won't go into specifics but let's just say that having your nose that close to a urinal cake it a very unpleasant experience.

I rinsed my face off and looked in the mirror. My eyes were basically closed, my Adam's apple was jutting out like crazy and my hair was a mess. I am a hot mess.

Just as I got out of the bathroom the ear grating dance song changed to "Hot Mess" which, according to my cousin, hasn't been played in clubs since 2012.

"EVERYBODY MOVE," I heard Antonio yelled. "I'M ABOUT TO HAVE MY JULIA STILES MOMENT!"

Before I knew it Antonio, my manager from that shitty little 7/11 down the street, got up onto the bar and started running his hands all over his abs and shaking his ass as if it were his talent.

People cheered and clapped and as he grinded up against the air and moved to the beat. Some people had actually started throwing money and videotaping him as he flipped his head back and touched himself.

"Nice dancing sexy!" Carl yelled out. He looked a bit drunk himself, was probably drinking to keep himself entertained.

The DJ danced along to music as everybody went wild when Antonio stripped down to his underwear. His blue boxer briefs were tight and left very little to the imagination. It looked nice but not huge like I expected.

Then he noticed me.

"LOVINO!" he screamed. "GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"

I snorted and saw the challenge. I stepped on the table with a flourish and took off my own shirt, pressing my crotch against his ass and jostling my hips around. He turned around abruptly and pressed his tongue into my slightly agape lips, and he started to lap at the inside of my mouth. I was shocked, but I kept dancing.

Antonio slid his hands down my pants and found his way into my boxers. He grabbed onto it and although he didn't do anything with it I was pretty satisfied with the grip of his huge warm hand around my...uh...anyway, he started kissing my neck. People cheered even louder and clapped on and on and we continued grinding to that lame ass song that didn't mean shit to me until now.

"I am having way too much fun," I gasped. "Thanks for inviting me."

"No problem man," Antonio laughed as he turned me around to face him. His eyes were red, his mouth looked extremely dry and his body was covered in sweat. He turned towards the crowd and brought up his arms. "Hey everybody Wang Chung tonight am I right?!"

I rolled my eyes and jumped down, taking his hand to help him down.

I felt like kissing him.

 **Authors note- Pretty Little Head has a playlist! Look up "Pretty Little Head" by solaris_has_swag on Spotifiy and follow for new music daily.**


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